


Same Old Lang Syne

by insanechayne



Series: Magical Song Based One-Shots [8]
Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, I hurt myself writing this, One-Shot, Song fic, could probably be considered pre-walking dead, no walkers or apocalypse, why did i think this was a good idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:18:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanechayne/pseuds/insanechayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU one-shot written for the song Same Old Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Old Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> So every year this stupid song comes back around to haunt me, so I decided to take it and make it my own and try to make myself feel better about it.   
> However, this story ended up being just as depressing as that fucking song, and I ended up hurting myself big time by writing this.   
> But it was a good idea, so I ran with it, and I'm proud of the way it came out.   
> May you all enjoy the fruits of my labor as well.

_Met my old lover in the  grocery store_

_The snow was falling Christmas Eve_

Daryl ducked into the first store he could find that was still open, his hands shoved into his pockets, his head dipped low so that the collar of his winter coat would cover his ears; it didn’t provide him much warmth, but it was better than nothing.

Damn snow was coming down in frenzied little flurries that covered the roads in sleet and stuck to Daryl’s wispy hair. He was glad he’d thought to tuck the bottoms of his jeans into his boots before venturing out, because no doubt his shoes would be filled with the freezing melted snow up to about his ankles by now if he hadn’t.

Daryl didn’t want to be out in the snow on Christmas Eve; he wanted to be curled up on the floor in front of the fireplace, downing one beer after another to provide internal warmth, forgetting all the old memories and the fact that he had no one to share the holiday with. He didn’t mind being on his own, not really, but during this time of year he longed for the comfort of another person, any person.

He rounded the corner and froze in his tracks, his head snapping up as he stared at the woman in front of him. She was just a few inches shorter than him, her hair curling down to just about the bottom of her neck shot through with soft wisps of gray. Daryl stared at her for a few too many minutes, wondering whether or not it was _her._

And then her right hand came down to rest at her side as she shoved her thumb into the edge of her jean’s pocket, and he could see the ring he’d given her so long ago resting on her third finger, just like it always had. It was a simple ring, something he’d found by a stroke of luck in a pawn shop when he’d gone in to sell off his barely working television set; it was banded in white gold, and the small pendant atop the band was a white Cherokee Rose, it’s middle shot through with gold and one miniscule diamond resting just at the center.

The woman before him was his former love, the one who still owned his heart: Carol Peletier. The ring confirmed that. Daryl’s heart jumped damn near into his throat, forming a sizeable lump that he could barely breath around. He debated with himself for a moment, trying to decide whether or not he should approach her.

Finally, he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

_I stole behind her in the  frozen foods_

_And I touched her on the sleeve_

Daryl reached out, gently catching the hand with his ring, his fingers brushing her hand and snagging on her sleeve instead. He had to see her face, her wide blue eyes, her open and innocent expressions; most of all he needed to see that smile that had gotten him through many a hard night, the one full of love and sweetness that she saved especially for him.

He needed Carol, plain and simple.

_She didn't recognize the face at first_

_But then her eyes flew open wide_

Carol turned her head over her shoulder, startled by the soft touch at her hand. She squinted in confusion momentarily, trying to place this tall handsome man with the wispy tendrils of hair falling into his face and the sad, heavy-lidded blue eyes. But then her memories clicked into place to fill in the present, and she knew who it was.

It was Daryl Dixon standing before her, his face drawn in too many years of depression and loneliness, trying to put a smile on his features at the same time as he tried desperately to hold his tears at bay.

Carol felt a sort of inexplicable sorrow for the man before her, for the expression on his face. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hold him until that look melted off his face.

_She went to hug me and she spilled her purse_

_And we laughed until we cried._

“Daryl,” Carol whispered, the word ghosting on a breath of air.

She turned to face him fully, her arms stretching out to wrap him into an embrace. But she overshot and moved too fast, and her purse tumbled from her shoulder onto the floor.

The two adults stood there for a moment, looks of shock and confusion on their faces as they stared down at the bag on the floor, its contents spilling over the tiles. And then they burst into laughter, frenzied gales of giggles escaping their throats, and they clutched their sides, tears pouring down their faces at what had just happened.

It was just like Carol to do something clumsy and embarrassing like that during such a serious moment, get them both broken up over nothing. It was just what they both needed.

When they managed to regain control, Daryl bent to the ground, scooping Carol’s things back into her purse, and handed it to her, the smile on his face slightly more genuine. She smiled back up at him, that beautiful smile that his memories had never managed to properly do justice, and then she wrapped her arms around his waist. He raised his own arms, encircling them around her shoulders, and the two of them stood there, locked in that sweet embrace, for several minutes.

_We took her groceries to the checkout stand_

_The food was totalled up and bagged_

_We stood there lost in our embarrassment_

_As the conversation dragged._

“So what have you been up to lately?” Carol asked as she placed her few items on the counter.

Daryl shrugged, unsure of what to say. “Same as before, mostly. Fixin’ cars, stayin’ outta trouble, waitin’ for Merle t’get back outta prison again.”

Carol nodded understandingly, giving a polite smile to the gruff man behind the counter who looked annoyed with the two of them. She didn’t know how to respond to that sort of thing, and Daryl didn’t know what was appropriate to ask her, so they both kept their mouths shut.

Daryl, gentlemanly as ever, grabbed the bags that the other man slid across the counter, causing Carol to blush softly.

“You wanna grab a drink?” Daryl asked as they returned to the snow outside, praying that she would say yes.

Carol thought for a moment, and then she nodded. “Sure, I’d love to.”

_We went to have ourselves a drink or two_

_But couldn't find an open bar_

_We bought a six-pack at the liquor store_

_And we drank it in her car._

Daryl packed her bags into the trunk of her car and then climbed into the passenger seat. Carol slid in behind the wheel, both of them remaining silent as she started the engine and drove slowly through the next few streets, searching for a bar.

When they were certain that all of the bars in town were closed, Daryl asked her to pull over at the first open liquor store he spotted. He ran inside, grabbed a six-pack of the first beer he could see, paid for it, and rushed back out to Carol’s car.

He didn’t say a word as he tore two cans away from their plastic rings, handing one to Carol and popping the top on his own, practically chugging half of it in just a few seconds. Daryl wouldn’t admit it, but he was nervous, and a little bit scared.

Daryl didn’t know what to say to Carol anymore. They’d been broken up for a while now, at least two years, and there was no telling what her feelings were toward him now. Sure, she could still think of him as a friend, but that didn’t mean she wanted to sit here and have a long life discussion with him, or even spend more than a few minutes with him.

But Daryl, on the other hand, was still completely in love with Carol. He still longed for her presence beside him every night when he crawled under the cold covers of his empty bed, still woke up thinking he’d heard her sigh in her sleep as she sometimes used to. He still dreamt about her, and wondered what their lives might have been like now if they had stayed together. He still loved her, plain and simple. But he couldn’t exactly tell her any of that, not now that she had moved on and damn near forgotten him.

_She said she'd married her an architect_

_Who kept her warm and safe and dry_

_She would have liked to say she loved the man_

_But she didn't like to lie._

“You know, I’m married now.” Carol blurted out, her eyes out toward the road as she took another sip of her beer.

Daryl almost choked on his swallow, he was so shocked. He was right, she had moved on and forgotten him. Which was to be expected, anyway; he had never deserved her love, never deserved any part of her, and he’d been the one to fuck up.

“That’s good to hear.” He mumbled, staring down at the can of beer clutched between his fingers like a talisman. “He good to you?”

“Yes.” She said simply, a wry smile curving her lips and not meeting her eyes. “He’s an architect, makes a decent living. We have a good home, and he takes good care of me.”

Daryl wrung his fingers around the can, biting his lip as he tried to think of something else to say. He didn’t want to be talking about this, didn’t want to be reminded of all his inadequacies once again. Of course she’d found someone new; she was a beautiful soul, a creature born of love and elegance, and she deserved someone to make her happy, someone to love and care for her, someone that Daryl could never be.

Without knowing what he was doing, Daryl blurted out. “Do you love him?”

Carol sighed, and Daryl glanced over at her, expecting an immediate “yes” as an answer to his question. The moon shone through the windshield, giving an angelic glow to her face, and Daryl noticed a shadow just under her jawline; he hadn’t noticed it before, but it was clear as day now. That shadow wasn’t just a trick of the moonlight filtering through the window on a dark night, it was a faded bruise.

“I’d like to say I do, but I wouldn’t like to lie.” Carol whispered, bringing a hand up to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.

Daryl’s teeth clamped down on his bottom lip once more, something akin to anger burning through his veins. Carol had settled for less than what she deserved and had ended up with someone who hurt her, someone she didn’t even love. If she had stayed, Daryl never would have hurt her, never would have laid a hand on her that she didn’t want there. But there was nothing either of them could do about it now; the past was the past.

_I said the years had been a friend to her_

_And that her eyes were still as blue_

_But in those eyes I wasn't sure if I saw_

_Doubt or gratitude._

Daryl cleared his throat, hoping to change the subject. “You still look just as beautiful as y’did b’fore. Ain’t aged a damn day, and yer eyes… well, they’re somethin’ else, Carol. Blue enough to put the ocean to shame, just like always.”

Carol looked over at Daryl, who was pretending that he wasn’t staring at her from his peripheral. Her lips pressed into a hard line, her eyes flashing something like confusion, something like regret.

“Thank you.” Was all she said in response.

_We drank a toast to innocence_

_We drank a toast to now_

_And tried to reach beyond the emptiness_

_But neither one knew how._

_We drank a toast to innocence_

_We drank a toast to time_

_Reliving in our eloquence_

_Another 'auld lang syne'_

“Do you want another beer?” Daryl asked, swinging the remaining cans around by his index finger.

“Yeah.” Carol said, reaching over and grabbing one without waiting for him to hand it to her.

Carol ran her finger over the rim of the can before she opened it, her eyes focused yet not-quite-there all at the same time. Finally, she popped the top and held it in the air. “A toast, Daryl.”

Daryl raised his own can, touching it gently to hers, his brows furrowing in confusion. “What fer?”

Carol swallowed back a sob and closed her eyes, waiting for her vision to clear. When she opened them again they were covered in a watery sheen, and when she spoke her voice was hoarse. “A toast to the innocence we shared. A toast to this moment now, this moment we have together. A toast to the time we had together. A toast to us.”

Daryl stared at her until she met his gaze, their eyes locking together, blue on blue. “A toast to us.” He whispered.

They stared at each other as they lifted their drinks to their lips and tilted their heads back, watching each other intently as they gulped down the bitter golden liquid. They watched each other as they finished their drinks, throwing the empty cans into Carol’s backseat without much care.

_The beer was empty and our tongues were tired_

_And running out of things to say_

There were no more safe words that they could share, and the longer they stared at each other the more danger they put themselves in of saying or doing something they’d regret.

So Daryl cleared his throat, turning his gaze to the two remaining beer cans. “Do you want another?”

Carol shook her head. “No, you can keep them.”

Daryl nodded, removing both cans from the plastic rings and shoving one into either pocket of his jacket.

The two sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes longer, their eyes shifting to quickly glance at the person behind them and then move away again, almost as if they were afraid of being caught.

“I should be going.” Daryl said gruffly, and turned to exit the vehicle.

_She gave a kiss to me as I got out_

_And I watched her drive away._

“Wait.” Carol said just as Daryl’s fingertips curled over the door handle.

Daryl turned back to her, his expression something close to expectant.

Carol hesitated for a breath of a moment, and then she leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Daryl closed his eyes, reveling in the heat rolling off of her, trying to capture it and send it straight to his heart so that he might not feel the chill of the night air as he walked back home. He molded his lips to hers, kissing her back, not wanting to leave the softness of her mouth behind for any reason.

But as soon as he felt a touch of wetness on his cheek she had already pulled away.

Daryl knew that now was the time to leave, and without another word he opened the door and stepped out of the car. He stood there on the sidewalk, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets and wrapping around the cans of beer there, and watched as her car pulled away from the curve and disappeared around a turn in the road, leaving his life forever once again.

_As I turned to make my way back home_

_The snow turned into rain_


End file.
